Learn
by kingofFevers
Summary: Petra was given one opportunity to be better, and she didn't take it. Now the whole world was paying the price. (Prequel to Jukebox)


As a mercenary in the kind of world she lived in, it was natural for Petra to get the occasional odd request. To name a few, she'd been asked to get weird food, an oddly specific body part of a mob, and literal scraps of glass; and she's very sure at least two were from the same person. Whether she accepted them or not varied (she declined the request for food), but the fact of the matter was that she got them from a large variety of people.

So the request for a specific kind of rope was unsurprising, facepalm-worthy, and very confusing.

The request to meet was sent, like any normal request she receives, through word of mouth, but what bewildered her was who her client was.

It was a boy, shorter than her by several inches. His hair was fluffy and sticking out everywhere, his dark eyes seeming to stare at nothing when he isn't bothering to focus, and his hands are _always_ busy; he was either playing with his sleeves, hugging himself, or keeping them in his pockets. The way he carried himself and how he acted (and how short he was, he couldn't be any taller than Lukas); he reminded her of a new spawn.

With somebody like him, she wondered how he could have possibly known about her, let alone what he could even want.

"I'm guessing you're Callie?"

The boy stammered in his confirmation, nodding and gripping his arm. He was obviously very nervous about this, he probably hasn't done any backdoor dealing before.

"Uhm.. Y-Yeah. I'm Callie."

Petra had dealt with people like this before, so she wasn't exactly weirded out or anything by the interaction. Honestly, she was just wondering why people like him somehow kept finding her and _somehow_ had things to ask from her.

The world was a strange place.

Unfazed, Petra crossed her arms and shifted her weight to one foot, leaning slightly. "So what did you want?"

Callie licked his lips nervously as he reached into his pocket, trying to find something amidst what might have been a stash of trinkets. Petra raised a brow as she waited, the other one going up too once he handed her a piece of crumpled paper.

Her brows furrowed when she read what was on it. "Chorus-fiber rope?" She looked down at the boy, who was now biting his lip; he looked like he was regretting every decision he's made in his life. "You mean the trees that grow in the End?"

"O-Only if you can-" He said quickly, head still down, but he was looking up at her from under his mop of hair. "I-If not, th-that's f-fine t-too."

The mercenary frowned.

Unprovoked, the boy continued talking. "It's- um- it's for a… a physics experiment." He flinched, for all of a moment, before he started played with his fingers, shifting in place. "I c-could even just h-have the fibers by themselves, if y-you want. That's fine too."

Petra made it a point to not judge her clients and get them what they asked for no questions asked, but she had to admit that there were instances when she really wished she could.

With the odd material and weird reasoning and the obvious self-consciousness of her client, it was safe to say that this was one of those times.

Focusing on other things, she stayed silent, counting how much fibre she'd have to collect and the instruments she'd need to borrow to make the rope. A rope which, from the material asked of her, wasn't something you would normally think to use, let alone know about considering how obscured the Chorus trees were to the general public and the newer, much more common version of rope that literally everybody else was using.

A rope made from a material of the End, that required a large amount of processing, all for a _physics experiment_?

"That's gonna be tough," She admitted aloud, folding the paper neatly. "If you're up for paying with minerals, I'd be willing."

"H-How much? What kind?"

"Just one emerald." She said plainly, "I don't care if it's the entire ore or the refined gem, it can be either. Just as long as it hasn't been crafted into something else."

Callie stared at her with wide eyes, his fingers still nervously twitching and playing around with his sleeves. "R-Really?" He asked, taken aback by the surprisingly low price.

"Just one emerald."

Looking down at the boy, unsure, and thinking on her job and what he was asking from her, Petra cursed her tendency to price lower than warranted.

He bit his lip, looking away for a moment and possibly considering his options. For a second, she thought he would retract the deal, but his face morphed into something, to say, a lot more sure than just earlier. "O-Okay," He said, "Yeah, I th-think I can get that."

The mercenary smiled. "Awesome."

As a deadline, Callie suggested that the both of them have a month at most to complete everything. It seemed fair enough to Petra and she accepted without complaint, and the two agreed to meet at the same spot by then. As per usual, they shook on it, and the boy left the other end of the alley, into the shadier parts of the neighborhood and back out into the light afternoon crowd.

Petra left the opposite route soon after.

* * *

She should have learned then.

When Petra met Olivia again a week after that one deal, she found out the truth about 'Callie.' The boy, who was really named Jesse, had tried to commit suicide using the rope that he got from Petra.

He almost died because she gave him a noose.

She should have learned from that. Learned to ask her clients why they wanted what they asked her for. Learned to be cautious about what she's dealing with.

In fact, maybe everything would have been better if she stopped getting dangerous things for anonymous people.

It's her fault that the world is dying. _She_ gave Ivor the with the last wither skull, _she_ didn't ask Ivor why he wanted it in the first place.

Nevermind getting the diamond- she should've taken the skulls away from the basement when she had the chance. It would have been so easy to just take them before he could use them, she and the others knew what he was planning on doing with them anyway.

But she was faster. She had more experience.

Petra could have done better.

But she didn't.

And now Magnus was dead.

The mercenary sat still, in a cold cave, poison coursing through her veins, her skin chipping away at the seams. The whole group was separated- Axel and Ellegaard were putting targets on their backs just for the Witherstorm, and Jesse and the others are going to the Far Lands to get a weapon that would take it down.

(They already tried the F-Bomb, how could they be sure that this one would work?)

People have gotten hurt. People have died, and more _will_ be hurt, and it's all because she gave Ivor the last piece needed for a world-ending catastrophe.

This was all her fault.

Petra stared down at her fingers, the withering purple now having taken over the whole of her limbs.

She should have learned.


End file.
